Nosipho lay on her back on her late parents’ cranky bed, her eyes fixed on the roof of her shack without a blink. An old clock hanging on the board wall was ticking away towards 19:50. Soon she would sneak out to sacrifice her childhood to Mr Nkomo once again.
At the tender age of 15, this kind of life was taking its toll on her. Her school work was suffering. She was tired and stressed most of the time, which made it difficult for her to study. Taking care of her two little brothers and dealing with Mr Nkomo’s demands almost every day was too much.
Her thoughts took her back to the first day Mr Nkomo approached her. It was just two weeks after her mother was buried. Mr Nkomo called her inside his shop when she passed by after school.
“How are you doing, Nosipho? You look tired and hungry, is everything OK at home?” he asked, with concern.
“We are OK, Mr Nkomo,” Nosipho replied, shyly.
“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me and I can help you and your brothers anytime!”
Nosipho hesitated for a few seconds. She wanted to turn Mr Nkomo’s offer down, but there was actually no food at home. The little that the local committee had given them was finished. She and her brothers had to go to school with empty stomachs that morning. She was too shy to approach the neighbours or the committee for help.
“Come on, Nosipho, don’t be shy! Your parents and I have known each other for a long time! I can’t let you suffer while I can help. Let me take care of you,” Mr Nkomo said, in a persuasive tone.
“We…we don…don’t have anything, Mr Nkomo,” Nosipho stuttered, feeling embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, my girl! Go home and come back with a wheelbarrow and your little brothers. I will give you all the groceries you need!”
Nosipho was relieved. At least they were not going to die of hunger. She was taken aback by Mr Nkomo’s kindness.
He gave her everything she wanted for herself and her brothers for a full two months, without asking her to do anything in return. He even gave her pocket money and promised to buy her an expensive smartphone she could use to research some of her schoolwork. He was always encouraging her. She was grateful, even the stress of losing her parents became less severe, life was not bad at all. Until one fateful day…
“I have been so kind to you, my girl, without asking you to do anything in return for me, is that right?” Mr Nkomo asked.
“Yes, Mr Nkomo, and we are so grateful! You are really kind! Thank you,” Nosipho replied, with her beautiful innocent smile.
“I want to ask you for a little favour, nothing too difficult. Would you mind, my beautiful girl?”
“I won’t mind Mr Nkomo! Anything for you!”
“That’s my girl! Come here tomorrow after school. We will talk about it.”
On her way home, Nosipho was wondering what kind of favour Mr Nkomo wanted. Maybe it was helping him with the spaza, since he was getting old and didn’t have children of his own. His wife was working in a hospital as a general assistant. She was rarely at home. Even when she was home, she was too tired to help her husband.
“This will be our little secret. If you behave, I will make your life so easy. But if you tell anyone! I am going to make your life miserable. I will make people hate you and your precious little brothers. We can even take your shack and chase you away from this community. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mr Nkomo,” Nosipho replied, arrested by shock at what Mr Nkomo, the man she had trusted, had just asked her to do.
“I’m glad we are clear,” he said, licking his dry cracked lips.
Nosipho wanted to puke with disgust.
Tell us: Do you think Nosipho should tell someone?